


From the Mouth of Babes

by BeggarWhoRides



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Single Parent, F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeggarWhoRides/pseuds/BeggarWhoRides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine is a trophy widow, trying to pull her life back together after the death of her manipulative husband. She's fine. Really.</p>
<p>But Coralie won't stop crying.</p>
<p>(aka the "my baby wouldn't stop crying until you smiled at them" au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Mouth of Babes

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for a brief mention of self-harm and of a plane crash.

“Shh...Coralie, shh... _mon ange, s’il te plait.”_

Delphine gently bounced her baby in her lap, trying to ignore the glares she was getting from the people sitting around her on the crowded bus. She sent an apologetic smile toward an old woman sitting across the aisle, but the woman only sniffed disapprovingly and looked away.

In her arms, Coralie continued to wail. 

“Coralie, shh, shh, we are on the bus. You have eaten, you have slept, what is wrong?” Coralie started to turn red, tiny fists trying to push Delphine away. Delphine hushed her again, not looking any of the other passengers in the eye as she tried--and failed--to calm her little girl.

_“S’il te plait, Coralie.”_

Annoyed muttering started a few seats down, and Delphine felt hot tears spring into her eyes against her will. 

She was fine. That’s what she’d been telling herself every day for the past three years, trapped in a loveless marriage as a trophy, and every day for the past three months since her husband’s funeral. She’d survived the years in the prison that was her husband’s mansion, his condescension and patronizing ways, the way she’d had nobody in this country but him, the way he’d only actually looked at her when she was in his bed.

She’d survived the private plane crash that had killed him and left her with plates and screws holding her leg together and Coralie with a fear of being separated from Delphine for even a few minutes.

She’d survived.

She hadn’t cried, or screamed, or done any of what women in loveless marriages or grieving widows were meant to do. She hadn’t turned to her razor, the way she had in boarding school. 

She was _fine._

But Coralie wouldn’t stop crying.

“Coralie, _s’il te plait. Pour maman, mon ange, s’il te plait, s’il te plait--”_

Coralie’s cries raised in pitch and Delphine’s vision started to blur. She wasn’t sure if she was frustrated, or angry, or even sad, but whatever it was it was a lot, and she just wanted to soothe Coralie and she couldn’t, she couldn’t even _calm her baby,_ and everyone on this stupid bus knew it, and--

“Bleeeeeeeah.” 

Coralie’s cries stopped suddenly, and Delphine looked up, blinking confusedly.

Next to her, a petite woman with cateye glasses and dreads had her tongue sticking out and her hands spread wide and waving around either side of her face. Delphine stared. The woman glanced up, tongue still hanging out, and stared back, a hint of a blush beginning to grow on her cheeks.

Coralie started to giggle.

“Ah ba-baba bibibiii,” Coralie cooed, stretching out a chubby hand and yanking on a dread hard enough to make the petite woman wince.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Delphine sputtered, trying and failing to get Coralie to let go. “She does not usually--she is a good girl, usually--” 

“It’s totally cool,” the woman said, smiling brightly and waving another dread in front of Coralie, which the baby grabbed with enthusiasm. “She’s a real sweetie.” 

“Thank you,” Delphine said, moving closer to the brunette so she could keep a hold on Coralie while Coralie kept a hold on the other woman’s hair. “For the compliment--and for calming her.” 

“It’s no big,” the woman said, still grinning widely. “My sister’s got a daughter--she’s eight now, but I got stuck with babysitting duty plenty of times. Guess some skills stuck--oop.” 

“Coralie,” Delphine sighed, “Coralie, please give the nice woman her glasses.” 

“Sorry, kiddo, I kinda need those,” the brunette laughed, gently extracting her cateye frames from the 6 month old’s surprisingly strong grip. “Is Coralie your name? It’s very pretty, little miss.” 

Coralie babbled happily in response, laying her small hand flat against the woman’s nose. 

“My name? It’s Cosima. And what’s your mom called, hm?” 

“Delphine.” Delphine felt a grin pulling at her lips for the first time in a very, very long time. _“Enchantée.”_

“En-chan-tay.”

“Eeeehhh,” Coralie burbled, and they both laughed.

The bus screeched to an unsteady halt at a stop, and Delphine was suddenly aware of how closely she was sitting to Cosima as the shorter woman leaned into her. Coralie still had the end of one dreadlock in her hand, the other clutching at the sleeve of Delphine’s sweater.

“Is this your stop?” Cosima joked, “Because if it is, and if this little guy doesn’t release her death grip, I might have to get off with you.” 

“Oh, no,” Delphine said, “But if you have to get off--”

“Nah, my stop’s three away,” Cosima said easily. “But if you’re interested, there’s a coffee shop a couple blocks away from the next stop. They’ve got sandwiches too, if you haven’t eaten yet.” 

“Are you asking me out?” Delphine asked, surprise coloring her tone. “A woman with a child?” 

“No wedding ring,” Cosima pointed out, “And I mean, only if you’re interested--you can say no, obvs--” 

“Yes.” 

“What?” 

“Yes,” Delphine said, grinning even wider at Cosima’s dumbfounded expression. “I think I am interested.”

She was a bit dumbfounded herself--she’d never been an impulsive person, hadn’t dated much even before Aldous, and certainly never a woman. But Cosima was like nobody Delphine had ever met,and the only reason she’d taken the bus instead of calling a private car was because she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of going home to a hollow house. This was as good a chance as any to avoid it for just a few more hours, and a few more hours with this sparkling woman.

“Okay. Great.” 

The bus came to another screeching halt and Cosima pulled herself up before it had fully stopped, stumbling slightly and clinging to the support pole. Coralie made a small unhappy noise when she realized she’d lost the dreadlock that had become her new favorite toy. Delphine waited until the bus had stopped completely before standing, hugging her baby to her chest.

“You coming?” Cosima asked as Delphine hesitated in the bus doorway. _What am I doing?_

Was she seriously considering this?

She could keep riding the bus, end up home with Coralie, and go back to her life--her life that was the only sort of life that she’d known, with Coralie and her job and nothing else, safe and secure.

Or she could get off the bus.

She could run off with this girl, with dreadlocks and tattoos, and make her life so much more complicated, and risk her routine and her heart.

Coralie babbled softly, reaching a hand out in Cosima’s direction.

_“Moi aussi, mon ange,”_ Delphine said, pressing a kiss to the side of her baby’s head. _“Moi aussi.”_

She got off the bus.

**Author's Note:**

> A quick one-shot, which appears to be how I cope with the aftermath of 3x10. Massive thank you to my beta reader, Noelle (on tumblr as lesbianchristmasangel).
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and criticism is encouraged! Come bug me on tumblr at probablytatiana if that's more your style. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
